Never Kiss a Laird (25 page)

He permitted
her to enclose him into the cramped space, and he gingerly turned and pressed
his ear to the door.
 
He could dimly hear
someone speaking in Sally’s chamber.

Sally spun
around to see her mother opening the door.
 

“What are
you doing out of bed?”
 
Lady Denham asked
querulously.
 
“You are the most
thoughtless girl, Sarah.
 
Get into bed,
and put on your nightcap.
 
Try to
remember that you were born a gentleman’s daughter.”

Sally donned
her nightcap obediently, and climbed back into her bed.
 
She could not repress the lingering smile on
her face, an expression that could not have contrasted more strongly with the
disapproving look on her mother’s face.

“You seem
extremely pleased with yourself, although I can certainly think of no reason why
you should be,” Lady Denham commented coldly. “You seem not to care at all
about the trouble you have brought upon the family.”

“You are
wrong, Mama,” Sally told her, her face sobering.
 
“I am indeed very sorry for all that I have
put you and Papa through.”

“Then show
it, miss, instead of all this false talk.
 
I have informed Simon that you have accepted his suit.’

“But I most
certainly have not!” Sally averred.

“I am well aware
of that,” her mother said disdainfully.
 
“Nonetheless, you will marry Simon Atherly.
 
I have sent to London for a special license, so that we need
not wait for the banns to be read.
 
Simon
has agreed to this, and you will be married from this house in two days.”
 
She did not wait for an answer from Sally,
but turned and walked to the door.
 
Before she closed it behind herself, she looked back at her daughter.
 
“You are a sad disappointment to me, Sarah,”
she stated coldly.
 
“Do not make me even
more displeased to be your mother.”

Lady Denham
closed the door sharply, and Sally sat looking blankly after her.
 
She had always known that her mother
preferred her brothers, but never had it been so plainly spoken before.
  
The closet door opened, and Hugh poked his head
out.
 
His hair had become wildly
disheveled, and despite herself Sally burst out laughing.

“Is it safe
to come out?”
 
he
asked.

“Indeed it
is,” Sally giggled, only to be interrupted by a second rap at the door.
 
She looked imploringly at Hugh.
 
“Just once more?”

Hugh shook
his head, sighing heavily, but retreated back into the closet, pulling the door
behind him.

For the
second time, her bedroom door opened, and she was surprised to hear a masculine
voice say, “You seem very merry.
 
Your
mother informs me that you are at last reconciled to our union.”
  
To Sally’s shock, Simon Atherly stood framed
in the doorway, gorgeously attired in a scarlet silk dressing gown, an
extremely pleased smile upon his handsome face.
  
“I see no reason why we should not seal our
betrothal properly.”
 
He pulled a bottle
of champagne from behind his back in one hand, and two of Lady Waverly’s best Waterford flutes in the
other.
 

“Mr.
Atherly, you are making a serious mistake,” Sally said urgently, darting her
eyes towards the cupboard door, and hoping that Hugh could not hear well enough
to know who was speaking.
 

“Nonsense.
 
You behold
in me your savior.
 
I’m here to
save
your lost reputation, Sally, so how
could I possibly harm it further?
 
It’s
perfectly delicious.”
 
He advanced into
the room as he spoke, and set the flutes on a chest of drawers.
 
“I can do anything I want, and your
reputation cannot possibly suffer more than it has done.”

“Mr. Atherly,”
Sally demanded in a low but compelling voice.
 
“I insist that you leave this room at once!”

“Why?”
 
Simon quipped.
 
“Are you hiding another man in here?”
 
He laughed heartily at his own joke, and
Sally hissed at him to be quiet.

“I will call
the servants,” she threatened.

“I don’t
think you’ll do that,” Simon winked.
 
“I
suspect you are not as ill-pleased as you pretend to find me here,” he said in
a self-satisfied voice.
 
“And I have a
feeling your grandmother would be thrilled to see us getting along so
well.”
 
 
He grasped the cork, twisted the bottle and
with
a loud
pop, frothy champagne spilled over.
  

At the explosive
sound, the cupboard door flew open, and the Earl of Kane emerged from the
cramped enclosure, an expression of fury on his face as he realized who Sally’s
latest visitor was.

“Who are
you?”
 
Simon exclaimed, astonished.
 
He looked over at Sally.
 
“Explain yourself, miss!”

The look of
offended virtue on Simon’s face was too much for Sally, who had to bite her lip
to stop herself from laughing.

Hugh, taking
in the gorgeous dressing gown and the champagne in once glance, strode forward,
imposing himself between Sally and her would-be lover.
 
“Allow me to introduce myself to you, sir,”
Hugh proclaimed formally, in a hard voice.
 
He was unaware that his hair was wildly disarrayed and somehow his
cravat had been pushed to one side, and two of his shirtfront buttons had come
undone.
 
“I am Hugh McLeod, Earl of Kane,
at your service.”

Simon
observed Hugh with an expression of outrage.
 
“Why are you lurking in the bedchamber of my affianced wife in this
shocking state of undress, my lord?”
 
he
uttered in indignant tones, eyeing Hugh’s unkempt state
resentfully.

Hugh’s eyes
narrowed.
 
“So you are the infamous Simon
Atherly,” he uttered, nodding disdainfully.
 
“The cad who misused an innocent interlude to try to
force this girl into marriage.
 
The bounder who could have told the truth and restored her
reputation, and refused.”
 
He
stepped forward as he spoke, pulling his arm back, but before he could deliver
the slap, which would be the prelude to a challenge, Sally flung herself
between the two, her hands pressed to the Earl’s chest, pushing him backwards
with all her strength.

“Hugh,
please do not!
 
I forbid you to fight Mr.
Atherly!”

Mr. Atherly
was in complete agreement.
 
He retreated
behind Sally, crouching down, his hands on her shoulders.
 
“Sally, why is the Earl of Kane hiding in
your bedroom?” he asked nervously.
 
Like
many bullies, Simon was not eager to fight an opponent of his own size.
 
He certainly wanted to get his hands on
Sally’s fortune, but this menacing man appeared more than ready to offer a
challenge that Simon had no desire to accept.
 

“I do not
have to explain myself to you, Mr. Atherly,” Sally informed him firmly over her
shoulder.
 
“If I choose to have gentlemen
in my cupboard it is no one’s business but my own.”

Simon
straightened, and carefully keeping Sally between himself and the incensed
nobleman, he edged towards the door.
 
“I
have been deceived in you, Miss Denham,” he stated in an injured tone.
 
“I see now that Lady Greenly was right, and I
have had a very lucky escape.”

Hugh could
stand it no longer and broke in.
 
“You
had best make that escape, then, Mr. Atherly,” he advised in a tone of voice
that promised no good.

Simon looked
at him, and quickly opened the door.
 
“You are welcome to her, my lord,” he sneered.
 
“Until the next man comes
along.”

Hugh charged
the door, and Simon, eyes popping, leapt through it and pulled the door quickly
closed behind him.

The Earl
turned and met Sally’s eyes.
 
“So that is
your other suitor, my dear?”
 
he
asked conversationally.
 

Sally
nodded,
a rueful twinkle in her eyes.
 

“I don’t
think much of the competition,” Hugh commented.
 
“At least he left us the champagne.”
 
He poured the sparkling, amber liquid into the two flutes, and handed
one to Sally.
 
“To the victor…” he smiled
wickedly.

“It wasn’t
really much of a fight,” Sally temporized, taking a sip of the sparkling wine.

“I defy
anyone to push a fight onto that coward.”
 
Hugh said, disgustedly.
 
He set
down his flute, and stepped forward.
 
“Now,
where were we?” he murmured, slipping off his jacket, and pulling at his
wrinkled cravat.

Sally
shivered happily in anticipation, and as she slipped her arms around her
victorious suitor, the door flew open once more, and Lady Waverly stepped into
the room, supported by Marsters.

“Well!” the
outraged Dowager proclaimed in a withering voice.
 
“I thought I heard something going on.
 
But never did I expect to see a scene such as
this!”

The Dowager,
an incredibly light sleeper, had been roused by the unusual state of affairs of
the sound of doors opening and closing at an advanced hour of the night.
 
Her need to be aware of everything that went
on in her house caused her to ring for assistance, don her robe, and come out
into the hallway to investigate.
 
She had
been stunned to see Simon Atherly exit her granddaughter’s room and run quickly
back to his own chamber.
 
Outraged, she
had opened her granddaughter’s door, but never had she expected to see the chit
in the embrace of a second man.

Sally’s
face, turned in surprise towards her grandmother, had a delicate flush, and her
arms were definitely wrapped around the man’s torso.
 
The top buttons of her nightgown were undone,
her bare toes were peeping from beneath this garment, and of her night cap
there was no sign whatsoever.
 
The cad
who had entered her bedroom had evidently removed his jacket, and stood with
his back to the door, his arms around the not-unwilling form of Lady Waverly’s
disgraced granddaughter.

“Dammit,”
Hugh exhaled, dropping his arms and throwing back his head in
exasperation.
 

“Hugh
McLeod!”
 
Lady Waverly’s eyes widened in
disbelief, as she realized who the man was who held her granddaughter in such
an improper embrace.

“Godmother,”
Hugh returned pleasantly.
 

“Are you entirely
shameless?”
 
Lady Waverly, shaking with
fury, addressed herself to her granddaughter.
 
“You are entertaining this man in your chamber now, and I have just seen
your betrothed exit this room in some haste not two minutes ago!
 
I am speechless, miss.”

Hugh stepped
forward, picking up his jacket and taking his grandmother’s arm.
  
With a regretful glance at Sally, he
addressed the angry Dowager. “I must apologize for raising you from your bed so
late, Godmother.”
  
Lady Waverly’s head
barely reached Hugh’s shoulder, and she leaned heavily on his arm.
 
Her claw-like hand grasped his arm for
support, and Hugh remembered guiltily that she was well into her eighties and
should not be roused from her bed at midnight.
 
“Let me escort you back to you room, godmother, and ring for your maid.”

“Don’t you
try to charm me, Hugh,” the old woman warned angrily.
 
“I would never have pegged you as a womanizer
and a scoundrel. I am extremely displeased.
 
If word of this was to get out, no respectable family would ever receive
you!
 
No mother of an unmarried daughter
would allow a trifler and libertine into her home.”

An unwilling
laugh escaped Sally’s lips.
 
“Oh, your spotless
reputation,” she teased in a voice only Hugh could hear.
 
He turned and the wicked gleam in his brown
eyes was reflected back in her blue ones.

“What is
going on here,” Regina Denham suddenly appeared at her daughter’s door.
 
“I thought I told you to go to bed, Sarah.”
 
As she moved further into the room, her
outraged glance took in Hugh, his state of undress, and the presence of a
champagne flute in her daughter’s hand. “Sally Denham, what is this man doing
in your bedchamber?”
 
She noticed the
thin nightgown that was her daughter’s only covering.
 
“Put on your robe at once!” she shrieked.

“Please
allow me to introduce, myself, ma’am,” Hugh said, with a quiver of laughter in
his voice.
 
“I am the Earl of Kane.”

“I hope you
mean to tell me what you are doing in my daughter’s bedroom in the middle of
the night, sir!” she demanded, although her tone had changed subtly at the
introduction.
 
She looked keenly at her
daughter, and seeing the happy flush on her cheeks, and the disheveled state of
her nightgown, a calculating look came into her cold eyes
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